


The Birth of Gerik Mercenaries

by AnthraceneHusbando



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-01-30 14:09:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21429481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnthraceneHusbando/pseuds/AnthraceneHusbando
Summary: Gerik feels like Wilkut shouldn't be doing this whole mercenary thing. Or at least, if he is, he should be protecting him.
Kudos: 1





	1. Herbed Stew

Gerik scoffed at the herbed stew placed in front of him.

"If you keep feeding me this crap, Wilkut, I'm gonna enlist in Jehanna's army," he said as he stirred at his bowl, not at all looking forward to his first bite as chunks of lamb floated to the top among eggplant and tomato. 

"It's the only thing I can cook well, and there's no way you're cooking for us again." 

Gerik hesitated as he watched Wilkut start to serve himself. "You were able to get us some lamb this time?" He ate the stew tentatively, nodding as the first piece of lamb fell apart in his mouth. "Must've been some haul you've got out there."

"Yeah, about that..." Wilkut trailed off, as he sat down opposite of him. "I, uh, didn't go combing the desert today, actually. Haven't been for the past week."

Worried, Gerik spoke as tactfully as he could through spoonfuls of his stew. "You haven't been stealing again, have you?"

Wilkut enjoys a spoonful of his own before answering. "Nah, I got an actual job working for Mercury."

Gerik's spoon stopped partway to his mouth. "You what?"

"Now, it's not what you think, Gerik," Wilkut snickered.

"The bandits that came into town today..." Gerik paused, not knowing how else to continue. "You... They... What exactly is going on here?" 

"Alright, alright..." Wilkut put his spoon down. "You're basically my brother at this point; I guess I should've been more honest with you."

Gerik watched on with a mixture of confusion and worry as Wilkut drained the last of the broth from his bowl.

"This was a couple days back. Out by the dragon skeletons, the furthest one. After seeing some kids burying some stuff in the thing's mouth, I went digging there myself to see just what they were hiding."

"Stealing candy from babies again, are you?" Gerik stirred the last piece of lamb around in his bowl, wondering whether to eat it now or save it for his last bite.

Wilkut rolled his eyes as he continued. "I was the only one digging so I was keeping a close eye out. I'm glad I was because I came to notice a figure coming from the Grado border." 

"Let me guess," Gerik mused, "Mercurius himself, and his mercenaries in tow?"

"I couldn't tell who it was, but it was clearly a Grado soldier. Long, blue hair—and clearly high ranking, with his olive cape and form-fitting purple armor." 

"So it was Princess Erika, then?" Gerik chuckled.

"No no no no, this guy _radiated_ killing intent. Crazy. He had an evil looking lance, and I could hear his mad rambling from far away. I hid behind the teeth of the dragon just to make sure he didn't see me."

Gerik was becoming more and more worried. "Rambling? Killing intent? This guy killed someone?"

"Yeah, but I'm..." 

"Wait, 'yeah'?!" Gerik was getting heated. "You saw a man kill someone and didn't tell me?"

"I was going to, but I had one of my ideas and I knew you'd stop me," Wilkut retorted. "Looking at your bowl, I'd say you liked the results."

A staredown occurred between the Jehanna youth, deflated only by Wilkut slurping up the best herbed stew to grace the abandoned hut the two resided in.

Gerik finally sighs, looking down at his own empty bowl and realizing that he couldn't go back. "Alright, I'm listening... What's your plan?"

"I need to tell you what happened to the crazy guy first though," Wilkut mutters, trying to remember where he left off. "Anyways, this guy was screaming his ass off. He was far away enough that I couldn't even make out what he was saying, and I'm actually kinda glad about that because I'm sure he would've killed me given the chance. But instead, a wyvern... something... soldier from Grado came and landed near him."

"A what?"

"The second soldier was riding this sleek, blue-and-purple wyvern. I've never seen one like it before, honestly."

"That's... weird." Gerik shuffled through the memories he had of Grado's army from his childhood. All the wyverns he had seen before had been orange and scaly; nothing like Wilkut's descriptions. "So the crazy guy killed this soldier, then?" 

Wilkut nodded. "The soldier started the fight, but it lasted less than a minute between them. The crazy guy was an expert with a lance. The soldier swooped down twice, but the lunatic easily parried all his thrusts." A sense of marvel came over Wilkut's face as he recalled what happened next.

"He spun his lance around as the soldier prepared to strike. The soldier dives down and, with a large, sweeping swing, the lunatic cuts through the head of the soldier's lance, swings his evil lance all the way around, and cleaves the soldier's head off in one fell swoop." 

As opposed to gratuitous violence as Gerik was, he was still admittedly impressed. Both by the act and the clear impression it left on his friend. "It was that fast, huh?"

Wilkut nodded, starstruck. "The odd wyvern crashed into the ground and the crazy guy just stood there for a minute. When he stopped, he crawled onto the wyvern and just flew off."

Gerik blinked, trying to comprehend the story so far. "How have I not heard of any of this? You didn't tell the army?"

Wilkut looked disappointed at Gerik's pointed response. "Right, because the last time Grado soldiers came to Jehanna, everything sure went perfectly..."

Gerik realized the implications of another Grado military presence, no matter the size. "So what did you do?"

"I buried him." Wilkut winced. "In the mouth of the skeleton, too. I took his armor off to make sure no one would start another war, and then made off to the bazaar with his equipment."

Gerik looked down at his empty bowl. Just how many more bowls would come after this? "What was all his stuff worth at the bazaar?"

"Almost nothing." Wilkut replied sourly. "I went to an armorer to see how much everything was worth new."

"And? What, it was all cheap stuff?" Gerik remembers the bronze sword given to him when Grado's men came to Jehanna, and sighs. "Not all soldiers carry steel these days."

Wilkut couldn't keep the shit-eating grin off of his face. "You're right: he carried _three silver lances_ with him." He laughed at Gerik's astounded face, knowing it was only about to get worse from here. "New armor and three silver lances would run you _twelve thousand six hundred gold."_

Gerik was dumbfounded. "I don't understand... We could survive off of that _for _years_. _What did they try to buy it for?"

"Highest offer I got for the lances was 640 gold."

"640?!" Gerik was perturbed. "But why so little? Were the items old, or damaged?"

"Nope." Wilkut smiled. "They were just trying to scam me, claiming they were steel. I got so frustrated with the bazaar I just decided to go straight to people who buy the weapons themselves." 

"So that's why you ended up at Mercury?" Gerik started to understand the story now, little by little. 

Wilkut nodded. "On that same day, Mercury was holding some kind of hiring day. Mercurius, the Deathstalker himself, immediately pulled me over to the side after seeing me come in with a bunch of good equipment." He was beaming with pride, to have garnered the attention of the local hero. "I told him everything. He seemed kinda happy, actually. He seemed worried he was going to have to pay a large wage to a soldier for all this good stuff."

Gerik rolled his eyes. "Why is it always about money?"

"Believe it or not, he still offered me a job. A lot of guys think it's above them to loot bodies. I've been training for a week but honestly, I did very little fighting today." Wilkut couldn't believe he ever stood on a battlefield again. He had been so terrified of war he could remember it so vividly. 

So could Gerik. "I am not letting you onto the battlefield alone, Wilkut. " For the first time that night, Gerik had a serious demeanor. "I'm going with you tomorrow." 

Wilkut was taken aback at that. "What do you mean?"

"If you're going out fighting again, I'm going with you." Gerik had lost everyone to the battlefield, and he knew that Wilkut had too. "I have to protect you. You're all I've got left."

Wilkut smiled. "Alright, Gerik. Alright." He stood up and started cleaning up the table. "We're waking up at dawn to talk to Mercurius first thing in the morning."

Gerik nodded. This was the start of something big, he could tell. "Night, man."

"Night, Gerik." Wilkut watched Gerik leave and took a look around the war-torn house they inhabited. How long until they could fix it up? How long until they could get themselves a new place?

"Maybe I could even start my own guild..." Wilkut snickered as he himself headed off to bed.

"That'll be the day..."


	2. Mercurius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerik feels like Wilkut shouldn't be doing this whole mercenary thing. Or at least, if he is, he should be protecting him.

Mercurius, also known as the Deathstalker, founded the mercenary group Mercury over 50 years prior. His success has manifested in a large compound at the center of Jund, the Jehanna town near the border of Grado.

As a border town, Jund attracts attention of all kinds. The number of bandits from both countries, Jehanna and Grado, that frequent the town is only surpassed by the number of merchants travelling the road. With the Jehanna army in tatters, Mercury have made their name by protecting the town. 

Gerik had often seen the Mercury compound across from the gambling den. The place was often swarming with mercenaries looking to double their paycheck in a few quick seconds. Gerik glanced at the den as he entered the Mercury compound. What was he thinking, coming in here? 

“Well, well, well.” We weren’t expecting you until midday, Wilkut.”

A sultry voice floated towards the pair of friends. Gerik’s eyes had been scouring the room, expecting a lavish set up. The voice snapped Gerik’s attention to the vixen behind the desk. 

Wilkut shrugged. “My friend here thought he should join to keep me safe out there. I thought we should show up earlier to sort that out.” 

“Well if that’s the case, you think he’d be more polite…” The angel gave Gerik a coy look. “If you ever want to stop ogling me and talk, the name’s Alekta.”

“I, uh, yeah….” Gerik stuttered, tripping over his thoughts. “I uh, I’m not really trying to work for you guys. Really, I’m just trying to keep my… friend here safe.”

Wilkut and Alekta both did a double take. “Wait a minute,” Alekta started to ask, “If you don’t want money, what do you want?”

Gerik looked down at the bag holding the bronze sword that had once saved Wilkut’s life. His eyes then moved on to Wilkut himself, and Gerik felt an intense pain in his chest as he remembered the nearly dead Wilkut in his arms. He spoke to Wilkut in his response, rather than to Alekta. “I just want to keep you safe. I’m not letting you out of my sight––not on the battlefield, not again.”

“Is that so?”

All three of the people at the front desk jumped at the deep growl emanating from the doorway. All turned to see the mercenary hero, Mercurius, grinning ear to ear. 

“I think I like you, kid. Step into my office, all three of you. This is going to be one interesting talk.”

-

Gerik sat next to Wilkut on a plain wooden bench facing Mercurius’ desk. The Deathstalker sat on a nondescript metal chair, and Alekta sat on his desk, almost as if attempting to be a distraction. Gerik would’ve been disappointed at how boring the room was if it wasn’t for the five beautiful weapons hanging behind the mercenary. Each one was intricate and regal in their own right, and Gerik couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. 

Mercurius was quite pleased. “I am glad you like my collection. It’s a testament to how far I’ve come and how far my influence has spread.” 

Wilkut had seen the weapons during his interview, but hadn’t asked about them. But Gerik’s attention on them made Wilkut curious as well. 

“I haven’t seen anything like them before. What are they?”

Alekta, peeved at having received no attention, spoke up. “These are the legendary Sacred Twins used to seal the Demon King."

Wilkut’s and Gerik’s jaws visibly dropped as Mercurius cringed. Alekta’s haughtiness surged as Gerik and Wilkut had their imaginations run wild. Gerik pictured the heavily scarred man being knighted by every major kingdom in Magvel. Meanwhile, Wilkut was imagining the life he could live if he could make off with any one of these weapons. Mercurius’ next words brought both young men back into reality. 

“The Sacred Twins still reside within the nations their owners had established. These you see here are merely replicas––although admittedly, they are the best replicas in all of Magvel.” Mercurius pulled a sword down from the wall and placed it on the desk next to Alekta.

Gerik still understood the implications of the replicas. “These kingdoms trusted you enough to handle their most sacred relics?”

“Yes,” Mercurius responded, giving Gerik a very serious look. “Mercury is known throughout Magvel and is trusted to protect royal families and family farms alike. We do what is right, whether it pays the best or not. I need every man under me to embody that. I’ve tested Wilkut and I trust him. I’ve seen you spend your days at the gambling den. Can I trust you?”

Gerik shuddered as Mercurius’ judgemental stare ran right through him. Thoroughly intimidated, Gerik met Alekta’s eyes and felt the same harsh gaze wash over him. This was a test. Looking back at Mercurius, Gerik felt as if he couldn’t stand up to the standards that––

“I trust Gerik!” Wilkut stood up, breaking the tension. “He’s my best… My best…. He’s my brother.” 

Gerik’s eyes went wide, as did Alekta’s. 

“I’ll keep him on track, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Wilkut continued, hastily. “You trust me to work for you––you can trust that I’ll keep him in line.” 

The next few seconds were some of the most stressful for Gerik. Alekta was astonished as Mercurius closed his eyes. After a brief moment, he started to shake his head and laugh heartily.

“I don’t think royal knights have the stones you do. If that’s the case––if you and Gerik can survive Mercury’s best sword arm––we’ll discuss your employment terms.”

Gerik looked over at Wilkut, as both breathed a sigh of relief. “I accept. I’m sure I can take on your best man.”

Mercurius smiled roguishly. “Right this way, then.” He led the young adults out of the room.

Alekta picked up the Sacred Twin replica off the desk and swung it through the air with ease. “I love this job,” she mused, following the three men to Mercury’s arena. “I hope he can keep up with me.” 

As Mercurius exited the Mercury Entrance Building with Gerik and Wilkut in tow, he paused right outside the door. “Hold. She always likes taking her time.” 

As Gerik and Wilkut looked for Alekta, Mercurius rang the bell outside the building. 

Alekta walked out of the building, replica ceremoniously held in hand. She and the three men observed the chaos that the bell had brought. Several other bells had gone off in succession, and people were rushing out towards the arena at the center of the compound.

Gerik couldn’t figure out what was going on. “Is something happening at the arena?” he asked Mercurius. 

Placing his hand on Gerik’s shoulder, Wilkut was the one to answer him first. “You’re going to be on display in front of the whole guild.”

Gerik’s eyes met Wilkut’s, widening in anticipation. 

“This is your time to prove yourself,” Mercurius says, stepping in. “Not just to me, but to the rest of the guild who will rely on you out there. This will test your skill and, more importantly, your concentration in battle.”

Curious, Gerik cocked his head. 

“You will answer the question in battle: Can I trust you?” Mercurius gestures towards the arena.

-

Gerik and Wilkut couldn’t help but feel nervous. They were fitted into uniforms that had small bits of armor meant for last ditch defense. Gerik was lent a shield and allowed to pick out an iron sword that balanced well in his hand. Wilkut, on the other hand, wasn’t allowed anything to arm himself. Even Gerik’s old bronze sword was taken away. 

Was he going to be a part of Gerik’s test? How? 

“Hello! Hello, Mercury!” Mercurius’ voice boomed over the arena. “After last week’s recruitment, I know everybody has been bummed that there wouldn’t be any more of these for a while. Lo and behold, we have a special match just for you!”

The arena roared in approval. WIlkut tapped Gerik, snapping him out of his trance. The pair shared a nervous look. Neither knew what to do, what to say, or what to expect. Even Mercurius’ words were lost to them.

The Gate to the arena opened up and the friends came to their senses. 

"How did you talk me into this?" Gerik asked.

A terrified Wilkut could barely retort. "This - this was your idea..." After a deep breath, Wilkut's tone was radically different. “Time to earn my pay…”

"Is this really the boy that I had to protect so many years ago?" Gerik thought. He had no time to process it however, as he rushed to follow him out. The sun was blinding, and after their eyes adjusted, Gerik and Wilkut were stunned with what they saw. 

“Can Gerik, our newcomer, protect Wilkut from the strongest sword arm Mercury has?”

An army was facing the duo––five squads of ten soldiers were standing in formation. It was an intimidating sight to say the least, even with the soldiers not standing at attention. 

Gerik found his voice when he noticed something was off. “Hey,” he yelled at Mercurius. “This is the Jehanna National Army! I thought we would be tested against your best swordsman!”

Mercurius smirked. "They’re in for a real surprise." He thought. “These soldiers were merely sent here by Jericho, King of Jehanna to receive some training. They won’t be the ones fighting you today, but they’ve all agreed to help provide Wilkut’s goal today. Gentlemen, if you please!”

Not knowing what to expect, Gerik and Wilkut still found themselves confused to see the new recruits fumbling around for their wallets. Each man pulled a piece of silver from their pouches. Several grumbled to themselves and to each other, but very soon they all had a coin held out. 

“Normally we would collect this before you enter the arena, but for today you can just drop that on the ground,” Mercurius ordered.

Audible confusion arose from everyone––the audience, the recruits, Gerik...

But Wilkut’s eyes widened as he finally realized what was being set up. 

“The rules of today’s bout are simple: Wilkut will have to pick up as much silver as possible while Gerik tries to protect him from the strongest sword Mercury has. So once again, please just drop those coins and file to the side. In the meantime, Alekta will bring forward the blade to be used and give us the signal to start.” Mercurius gave an almost evil smile. “Come on out, Alekta!”

Alekta came out in a ceremonial dress, holding the Sacred Twin replica as the recruits filed to the side. 

“And now, for the strongest sword in all of Mercury,” Mercurius smirks. “Let the fight begin!”

The audience roared as gongs sounded off. In one swift move, Alekta tore the ceremonial dress off and charged.


	3. Trial By Combat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerik and Wilkut must survive Alekta if they want to work for Mercury.

"Gerik!"

Gerik couldn't believe that such a beauty was flying, almost nude, at him. He was unaware of everything else around him: Mercurius' narration, the crowd roaring, Alekta pulling back for a strike, Wilkut -

"GERIK!''

Gerik was thrust aside by Wilkut, who managed to avoid most of Alekta's strike. The edge of the blue blade sliced open Wilkut's cheek, slightly frosting the cut closed. Wilkut groaned as he landed on Gerik, and the crowd roared as Alekta overshot the two. Bloodlust was in the air, and the brothers didn't know if Alekta or the crowd were scarier.

"You can ogle her after the fight, c'mon!" Wilkut helped Gerik to his feet as Alekta turned and glared at them. "I'm going for the coins, cover me!"

Wilkut scampered off, and Gerik turned to meet Alekta, his head finally where it should be.

Alekta starts to slink towards Gerik seductively, testing his attention. "Finally ready to dance, love? Or should I take even more clothes off?"

The crowd and soldiers hoot loudly, but Gerik braces himself behind his shield. "I don't need to beat her; I just have to hold her back. Play defensively. Just like five years ago."

"I hate being ignored, you know," Alekta teases, "Do I have to get your attention the hard way?"

"You don't scare me," Gerik spat.

Alekta twirled her weapon, menacingly, "Yet."

Alekta charged at Gerik once again. Gerik was ready this time. Ready for anything...

Except for Alekta to dash right past him.

Gerik stood there, stunned for a moment until Mercurius spoke to the crowd.

"And it looks our newcomer just left Wilkut to the Desert Lily; this is gonna be over soon!"

"Wilkut!" Gerik turned around to see the same fear in Wilkut that haunted him so long ago. He couldn't keep his friend safe, even if harm came in such a sultry form. Knowing he wouldn't make it, Gerik charged after Alekta. But it was no use; he wasn't gonna reach her before she reached him. Why wasn't he moving!? Move! Move! "Move, dumbass!"

Alekta didn't tease Wilkut; she had a reputation to uphold. Besides, she needs to finish this quickly.

Even Mercurius held his breath as Alekta pulled back her blade, ready to roar at Wilkut's blood spilled. Wilkut himself was picturing the crazy soldier. His movements, grace, footwork...

Alekta's first blow was a foot wide, Wilkut coming dangerously close to stumbling. As more cuts followed, they come closer to Wilkut, but the killing blow never lands as Alekta is forced to blow Gerik's own swing at her. The crowd erupts in a massive roar as the two greenswords managed to hold Alekta for more than a few moments. Even Mercurius was watching pensively.

Alekta felt her honor and pride die as Wilkut scampered off again. Through all the emotions she felt – shame, humiliation, disgrace – she focused solely on the burning passion she had to put these children in their place.

Gerik positioned himself between Alekta and his charge. Alekta stood still as she looked up to Mercurius, who shook his head lightly as she fumed. She turned to face Gerik and readied her blade. The playfulness in her stance was gone, and a hush fell over the arena.

Mecurius scowled. Alekta getting serious often led to ghastly, gory results. It wouldn't do to have a dead body displayed during an attempt to increase morale. The signal was given and several stave users with Physic staves were placed on alert, hidden within the crowd; a few even knew they were needed before. Everyone watched intently, Mercurius most of all.

A terrified Gerik took a defensive stance. He knew his life was now on the line and tried his best to wrack his brain, he knew what was coming. But, could he stop it?

Alekta vanished, and Gerik brought his shield up and to his left. Sparks flew as Alekta ran her blade along the edge of the shield, before speeding off. Gerik broke off into a sprint in the opposite direction. Running faster than he ever had, Gerik didn't look back. As the crowd roared louder, he dropped to his knees and slid with his head down. Missing by inches, but still taking some of his hair, Alekta tried to reach Gerik with her steel, but flew past him. On the ground, Gerik held his shield up as he got to his feet. A sharp blow knocked him back, and he found himself before the bloodthirsty sword of Alekta.

Alekta toyed with Gerik to boisterous applause. She kept her left side open as she shaved parts of his shield away and made wild, dodgeable swings towards him. After five swings, he took the bait, attempting a strong cut down towards her. With an expert swing, the tip of the iron sword flew behind her as the sword flew out of Gerik's hand. Gerik raised his hands in defeat as Alekta felt a swell within her.

Wilkut's hands flashed into Alekta's view before she's forced to her knees. Wilkut held the tip of Gerik's sword, bleeding as the jagged edges cut into his hand. Pressed against Alekta's neck, the shard already had her blood on it as it cut her cheek during the quick scuffle. The gong sounded, and the crowd roared. Alekta had been defeated.


End file.
